“You’re still as sexy as any model I’ve seen on a Victoria’s Secret catalogue.”
“Get outta here, Edward. No man would look at me twice in my condition. Unless he was legally blind, that is.”
He remained serious, unsmiling. “You look exactly the same as the day I saw you in Peet’s. Same curves, full breasts, beautiful wavy hair. The only thing that’s changed is some added waistline, and that’ll be gone soon anyway.”
“Oh Edward, Edward, Edward. You’re such a bullshitter.”
“I am not bullshitting you, Brandy. I don’t know why you think you look so different from back then. You’re pregnant. It’s not like you’ve turned into the Wicked Witch of the West.”
I smiled. He was so cute. And always sexy. He was staring at me which made me feel uncomfortable. And we were sitting too close to each other so I scooted my chair over a couple of inches.
Just as it had been when we were at his house the first time, he placed a finger under my chin and brought his face inches from mine then brushed his thumb gently across my half-opened lips. Closing the gap between us, he covered my lips with his, gently inserting his tongue, widening the kiss, until I wanted to scream with wanting him.
His hands covered my breasts, full with milk at this time in my pregnancy, and desire whipped through me like an electric current. He massaged my nipples, lightly squeezing them and for the first time in months, I wanted to make love.
Dropping one of his hands, he slid his fingers under my skirt, inching his way past the edge of my panties, until he found my sweet spot with his thumb and rubbed ever so gently. Then I heard a moan, and didn’t know if it came from him or me.
I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t want him to stop. I found the front of his pants bursting with his erection and placed my hand over the bulge waiting for my caress then frantically ripped down the zipper, brought out his swollen member and rubbed hard and fast, up and down his slippery shaft. I could feel my orgasm coming, the pulsing a wonderful release of tension built up inside me for months and increased the rhythm of my hands until he throbbed between my grasping fingers, his body shuddering.
I could hardly catch my breath, and felt like I’d run a marathon. I sat still, knowing my heart rate would eventually slow.
I smiled. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had—sitting in a kitchen chair with all my clothes on!”
“We’re lucky your neighbors can’t see inside the windows,” he whispered, his chest heaving.
“I don’t understand what you do to me, Edward.”
“Best hand job I’ve ever experienced.”
I pulled back as if I’d been struck. “You’re crude, Edward.” He grinned. “We both had an orgasm, didn’t we?”
“Technically, that’s correct. But next time, I’d like to do it without any clothes on.”
I paused, looked him straight in the eyes. “I don’t know if there should be a next time. I mean, what are we thinking, Edward? You’re my birthing coach, not my boyfriend.”
“Once again, technically, you’re correct, I’m not your boyfriend. But, Brandy, I—”
“You’re what? You want to be my lover?” I said, my voice filled with irritation.
“No, I was going to say—”
“I don’t want you to be my lover, Edward. I don’t need a lover. I’ll be a mother in a few months and—”
“And I don’t want to be your lover either,” he said in a stern tone.
“Good. Because as I said, I have to think of my child. Fooling around in my kitchen, for God’s sake! I’m not a teenager!”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’m not a teenager either.”
I sighed. “What do you want from me?”
His voice came out in a whisper. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Brandy.”
My mind screeched to a halt. “You’re joking, right? You, Edward Barnes, the, to quote your words, ‘commitment-phobe,’ expects me to believe he’s falling in love with me?” I chuckled. “Come on now. Don’t insult my intelligence. That’s no way to get me into bed with you. Go find one of your ‘women’, as you call them, and tell them you’re in love with them. Maybe they’ll fall for that bullshit, because I don’t!”
He leaned over, grasped my upper arms, bringing his face inches from mine. I could feel his breath, smell his cologne, and see every blue fleck in his gorgeous eyes.
“Brandy, I love you. And we don’t have to sleep with each other again until you’re ready. I don’t want another woman, as you call it. I want you, dammit. Take me seriously, will you, because I’m not kidding.” He paused. I didn’t reply. “We’ll continue this discussion later.”
He released his grip on my arms, letting his hands fall to his sides. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t know what to say to him. This couldn’t be real. I didn’t want to get hurt again. A few months ago Weston walked out on me. I believed he was a “keeper” who’d fight before giving up on his marriage. Man, had I been wrong. And I could be wrong now if I believed Edward. Could I take that chance?
The phone rang and I took the opportunity to answer it in the front room.
“Hey, Brandy!” It was Cecilia. “Did you talk to Edward about the block party? I’m trying to get a count of how many people will be there.”
“No, I haven’t yet, but I’ll ask him now. We just finished dinner.”
“You did? You go, girl! Call me back tomorrow.”
Edward came up behind me, eating a cookie, a big grin on his face. “What are you going to ask me?”
I pretended to be appalled. “You listened to my phone conversation?”
He looked down at the floor. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Your voice carried all the way into the kitchen.”
I grinned. “My next-door neighbor, Cecilia and her husband Perry, and I are co-hosting the annual block party this Saturday. Here at my house. Would you like to come?”
A wide smile enhanced his beautiful white teeth. “What time should I be here?”
“Any time after five. Cecilia and Perry are handling the organization. All I have to do is get my house in order so people can roam around inside and outside. I’ve hired a gardener and a housekeeper to get the place ready before the big bash.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you this Saturday then. Gotta go.”
I walked him to the front door, where he turned and kissed me goodbye. I hadn’t been expecting it, so I didn’t have time to turn my head or move out of the way. He placed his hands on my butt and pressed me close to his obvious erection, then deepened the kiss, leaving me breathless.
Not only was he good looking, he had a killer smile, a great personality, a super job. Quite the package. But could he be trusted with my heart? And my child’s heart? Time would tell, if I chose to give him a chance to show me he was serious.
Chapter 26
Saturday turned out to be a glorious day for the block party—weather in the mid-seventies, little puffy clouds scooting across the blue-blue sky. Thanks to Susannah, my house looked immaculate. She took care of several houses on Lauren Drive, and I knew right away I’d hire her permanently. Dave the gardener came highly recommended and the lawn looked lush and trimmed, the rose bushes pruned. He’d also hung little lanterns amongst the branches of the trees, making the atmosphere both romantic and festive.
Cecilia had hired a small band to play music and every neighbor had a specific job. The barbecue was smoking, the corn cooking, and a variety of cold salads lined the tables in the street, blocked off for the event. Couples were dancing in the backyard, everyone having a great time.
Perry and I were dancing to a Beatles’ song when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Edward standing behind me, smile flashing, muscles bulging in a tight t-shirt, Levi’s hung off his perfectly-formed butt. He looked in his early twenties, but he was my age—thirty or thirty-one years old.
Perry backed up and shook Edward’s hand, introducing himself, then walked away to find Cecilia.
Edward to
ok me in his arms and wrapped his hands behind my back. “You look good enough to eat, Brandy. Are you the dessert?”
I chuckled under my breath. “You could sweet talk the President, Edward.”
He looked at me, brows knitted. “You offend me with your blatantly erroneous statements. Why would you say such a thing anyway?”
“Because of what you’ve told me yourself. You know, all those women who wanted to marry you, so you moved on?”
He nodded. “You’re right. But I didn’t lead them on. Brandy. When I found out they were on a different track, I let them down easily, no hard feelings. I’m still friends with all of them, believe it or not.”
“Oh, really? So they left amicably, no fighting, no arguments, and you still talk to all these women?”
“Talk being the operative word. I don’t date them anymore. I told you, I don’t whisper sweet nothings in their ears so I can get them in bed.”
I pulled back further and squinted at him. “And what about us?” I teased. “I never heard from you after you and I—”
“You can say it, Brandy. You and I had sex. I forgot your married name, I didn’t know where you lived. I’d given you my home and work numbers, and when I didn’t hear from you and never saw you again at Peet’s, I figured you weren’t interested. Then I transferred to Washington.”
“Are you saying you were interested in me back then?”
He nodded and grinned. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school for God’s sake. But I don’t pursue a woman if I don’t feel she’s interested.”
By now, the music had stopped, but we were both still moving from side to side to a beat no one else could hear, eyes latched, in our own little world. Suddenly Edward pulled away from me and whirled around, putting his back to me. Weston’s hand was clamped down on his shoulder, and they were glaring at each other. This did not look good.
“Good I dance with muhwife, pleeze?” He was drunk. I so hoped Edward would read the situation, acquiesce, and not make a fool of all of us at my neighborhood party.
“Sure, buddy. She’s all yours.” He backed away, arms outstretched, bowed low to the ground, and exited through the back gate. Thank God!
Weston grabbed me by the arm, pulled me forcefully against the front of him, my belly blocking him from getting too close. He leaned down to place a sloppy kiss on my lips.
I pulled back, slapping his face with my open hand.
“Ow!” he yelled. Placing his hand on the side of his face, he stared at me, looking shattered. “What didja do that for?”
I don’t think I’d ever seen him this intoxicated and he’d never been forceful. This public display of pushy affection and possessiveness was totally out of character, not to mention inappropriate. Arms crossed below my breasts, I stared at him with the sternest look I could manage. “You and I are no longer a couple, Weston. You filed for divorce, remember?”
“Iz jure fault we split up, Brandy…”
“No, Weston, it’s both our faults. You had an affair. I had an affair. Fortunately for you, you can’t get pregnant. But I can. And I did. We’ve already been over this, okay? Let’s not retrace our steps.”
I gently grasped his arm and walked him toward the back gate. Luckily, most people were out front eating dessert and drinking coffee, so we hadn’t been seen by but a few couples.
Weston allowed me to lead him out to the front yard. He was having a hard time explaining just exactly where he’d put his vehicle, but I noticed it parked at the corner and picked up the pace.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m drunk. I diddun mean to break up your pawty.”
I grabbed the keys from him and opened the passenger door. He crawled up into the seat and I shut the door then walked slowly around to the driver’s side. I remembered exactly where Carol and Weston lived. When I pulled up in front of their house on Santa Clara Avenue a few minutes later he was snoring so loudly I couldn’t hear the radio that had been on when I started the engine.
After parking in the driveway, I maneuvered myself out of the truck. I had no choice. I had to see whether Carol was home to help me out. Weston weighed over two-hundred pounds, and I couldn’t help him out of this big truck.
I rang the doorbell, hearing the My Country Tis of Thee tune echoing throughout the house. I had to stifle a laugh. That had to be Carol’s choice because Weston would never have wanted to listen to it in a million years.
Footsteps clicked on the floor, coming closer to the front door. It flew open, and there stood the beautiful and luscious Carol Smith.
“What do you want?” Her tone would stop most men cold, but she didn’t intimidate me.
“Your man, Carol, is drunk, in his truck, and I need help getting him into the house.” I wouldn’t try to make small talk with her. Before today, it was obvious she had it in for me and she surely wouldn’t want to stand on the porch chatting with her lover’s not-yet ex-wife.
She looked down at my belly and smirked. “You’re going to help him out of the truck? Who are you kidding? You look like a small rhinoceros.” She leaned her head back and laughed.
I was not in the mood for this. I was so pissed off that Weston had come to our block party skunk drunk, interrupting my dance with Edward. And now I found myself pleading with my husband’s whore to help me get him into her bed! How weird was that?
“Carol, why don’t I leave him in the truck and you can deal with him? I’ll walk home.” I flung the keys in her direction. “Later.”
I turned on my heel as quickly as my fat body would allow, and walked down the driveway, crossed the street, and headed for home. The look on her face had been priceless. No way could she get him out of the truck on her own. But hey, he wasn’t my problem any longer.
Chapter 27
June fifteenth—and the baby’s arrival was delayed. Dr. Farney had told me the due date was early June and I was anxious beyond measure and very uncomfortable. Flashbacks of giving birth to Christine plagued me every day, and I tried to tamp down the scary feelings popping up in my head.
The day before our last class, Edward called and asked me out to dinner again, saying it would be the perfect time to continue our unfinished discussion from the previous night. No way could I get out of it, so I acquiesced and agreed to his picking me up at five o’clock.
Sitting on the couch, my favorite decaf latte in hand, I tried to imagine having a relationship with him. It seemed inordinately risky, given what he’d told me about his checkered past. Savoring the rich taste of the espresso mixed with foamy milk, I mentally tossed around the “cons” of becoming emotionally close to him when suddenly a gush of warm liquid seeped out from between my legs. My water had broken. It was time!
I called Edward at his office and, lucky for me, he was at his desk with a client. He took my call immediately and said calmly that he’d notify Dr. Farney I was heading to Alameda Hospital then he’d ask Cecilia to come over and stay with me until he arrived.
I had already packed my overnight bag and placed it in the hall closet. Nothing needed to be done but wait for Edward to drive from his office near Park Street to my house. Within minutes, Cecilia walked through the front door and ran into the front room where I was working on deep breathing exercises according to Becky’s instructions.
You could barely tell Cecilia was pregnant. Only a small bump showed underneath her silk shirt. She’d never been overweight, and her skin looked pink and glowing. She ran over and knelt down beside the couch.
“Oh my goodness.” She let out a deep whoosh of breath, and laid her hand on her chest. “I ran over here as fast as I could. How are you doing? Can I get you anything?”
I inhaled deeply through my nose, my eyes tightly shut, then exhaled loudly through my mouth. “Make the pain go away, will ya’?”
She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Can you grip my hand?”
I tightened my grasp, grimacing.
“Is the pain bad?”
“Only when I breathe.” I tried t
o smile but had a helluva time pulling it off.
“Let me get you some dry clothes.” She ran up the stairs and returned with a fresh pair of underwear and capri pants.
She’d just finished helping me put them on when Edward knocked on the front door and let himself inside. He took one look at me, smiled hugely, and in his best Jack Nicholson imitation, he opened his arms wide and said, “It’s tiiiiiiiiiime!” I tried to laugh through the pain. He grabbed my suitcase, put his arm around my waist, and I waddled out the door toward the car.
We’d just pulled away from the curb when his relentless questioning began. “Is this your way of getting out of our discussion—because it won’t work. We’ll have to talk about us sometime, the sooner the better.”
“Edward, I…ohhhhhhh God, here it comes again.” I didn’t look forward to hours of contractions, but tried not to “anticipate.” Becky had warned us that could make the experience worse. “Feel in the present,” she’d counseled—logical but at this moment almost impossible.
He reached over and grabbed my hand, telling me to squeeze as hard as I could. So far, he’d done everything right, and I had faith in his calm ability to guide me through this. The hospital was located only six blocks from our house. When we arrived a nurse met us at the front entrance with a wheelchair. They immediately took me to the maternity ward where Edward helped me put on a pink cotton gown and booties.
No one else was in the room, and the nurse explained it had been a slow day with only a few admissions to this ward. Framed prints of paintings by Monet hung on the walls, and the room had been painted a lovely mix of blue, pink, and yellow. Huge windows faced the beach. From this floor you could see the San Francisco Bay, the light blue sky, and marshmallow clouds. Dr. Farney walked in soon after I settled in bed. After checking me, she gave us the good news—I had already dilated to eight centimeters and they’d be moving me to the birthing room down the hall.
Edward joked with her, seeming at home in this environment. He appeared relaxed, rubbing my shoulders, holding my hands while I squeezed his in a vise grip with each contraction. They were coming much stronger and more often now, and felt entirely different than I remembered when Christine had been born. This time I could breathe normally, not needing an oxygen mask to help me through the last birthing phase.
Moon Over Alcatraz Page 14